


a simple cliché

by minjo_ong



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up/Aged-Down, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anxiety, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Drunken Shenanigans, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Panic Attacks, Partying, Romantic Seonghwa, Slow Burn, Smut, Sporadic Updates (i'm sorry), Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2020-10-24 23:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minjo_ong/pseuds/minjo_ong
Summary: “terrible liars make the best people you know.” seonghwa looked him straight in the eyes, his ringed fingers still wrapped loosely around Yeosang’s wrist.and that’s when yeosang knew he was absolutely, completely, utterly fucked.or:yeosang's a freshman, and he's nervous to say the least. he hates the unpredictability of it all.then he meets park seonghwa. the sophomore is not only unpredictable, but unattainable.that doesn't stop yeosang's stupid brain from falling for him, one second at the time.





	1. moving day

**Author's Note:**

> hello ! ! welcome to my new fanfiction <3
> 
> i'll try to update somewhat regularly but no promises ! 
> 
> before you begin, the title comes from the song 'cliché' by mxmtoon. you can listen to it if you'd like ! ! it reminds me of the way yeosang sees seonghwa in this fic.

Today was moving day. Yeosang looked around the room he had called his for the past eight years, at the couple cardboard boxes in which he’d managed to fit all of his memories, and belongings. He had a hard time believing he wasn’t going to wake up staring up at his baby blue ceiling. All the posters, pictures, postcards he’d hung up over the years had been taken down, folded and put away. All his cactus pots had been moved to the living room so his mom wouldn’t forget to water them. Even the smell of his lavender incense had wafted out of the open window. He was excited, but mostly, he was terrified. Yeosang hated the unpredictability of his future. College was starting next week, new home, new classes, new people, new-

“Yo!! Yeosangie!! Are you ready yet?” The loud voice resonated across the walls, probably originating from the living room or kitchen.

Ah yes, at least he’d still have the same old Wooyoung. Yeosang sighed dramatically to himself, lugging his bag (that was filled with all the stuff he couldn’t fit into those four cardboard boxes) over his shoulder and stepping out of the room. He walked down the hallway, nodding and mumbling a small greeting to the mover who had been waiting to carry the last of his boxes outside in order to delicately shove them into a truck. Ever the nostalgic, he took his time. His eyes passed one more time over each of the family photos that lined the walls of their house. The oldest photos were always from eight years ago, and Yeosang resolutely ignored the ache in his chest that accompanied that thought. He stopped in the doorway and watched amused as Wooyoung, sitting on the kitchen table, talked animatedly with their father about the auditions University of Seoul was holding next Wednesday for its acapella group. His dad was nodding along thoughtfully, the only one who could really withstand Wooyoung’s endless ramblings about this and that along with Yeosang. He spotted Yeosang in the kitchen doorway.

“Ah! Yeosangie, we thought the walls had swallowed you up,” he joked, “is everything ready to go?”

“Yeah Dad, everything’s ready.” The word still felt just the tiniest bit strange on his lips, even after eight years.  _ Dad _ . The man standing there in front of him was not really his father, Yeosang had not been born into this family. Eighteen years ago, give or take, his tiny screaming body had been placed into the arms of a woman who decided that her time could be better spent drinking and watching television than feeding and caring for her child. Yeosang did not remember much from his early childhood, except for hunger pangs and loneliness. He had learned to fend for himself early on, eating mostly cereal and instant ramen. Miraculously, his mother managed to take time out of her busy scehdule of scotch and reality shows to sign him up for primary school, where he had met Jung Wooyoung. Though he’s sure she only did it to get rid of him for longer periods of time, Yeosang will always be grateful to his mother for that one single act. 

“We should get going,” their father interrupted Wooyoung gently.

Wooyoung nodded happily and jumped off the table. 

“I can’t believe this is it. Like, we’re actually moving to Seoul? You guys are gonna be so bored without us.” This last part was directed towards their father whose eyes crinkled as he smiled softly.

“Don’t worry about me and your mother, I’m sure we’ll find plenty of ways to fill up the free time. I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.” Wooyoun’s jaw dropped and he clutched his heart in fake agony.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna go to Hawaii without me and ‘Sangie,” he whined. Their father laughed brightly.

“What’s this about Hawaii?” Their mother entered the kitchen, two small wrapped gifts in her hand. She turned towards her husband, fake whispering: “Jeonsoo, don’t reveal all our plans, they were just about to leave!”

“`Very funny Mom…” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

z

“Yeosang seems to think so,” his mother teased refering to the small smile the banter had induced, “that’s why he’s my favorite son.” The smile on Yeosang’s face grew wider as Wooyoung started complaining more about how unloved he was.

“I guess if I don’t love you, I’ll have to keep this present for myself then.” She smiled slyly, and beckoned for Wooyoung and Yeosang to come closer. “Here you go.” She handed Wooyoung the green gift and Yeosang the blue one. “Open them if you’re ever feeling a bit down okay?” She smiled softly and hugged them both. “Now, you better go if you wanna get ahead of the traffic. Be nice to your dad and don’t get into too much trouble. Okay Wooyoung?” 

“WHAT ABOUT YEOSANG?” Wooyoung cried out indignantly. Their mother laughed and hugged Wooyoung tightly.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” Wooyoung grumbled, but his sincerity still rang clear. He grabbed his bag and left the kitchen with their dad in tow, already rambling on about all the things they needed to buy at Ikea. His mom turned towards him.

“Ah Yeosang, what am I going to do without you?” She tucked his hair behind his ear and Yeosang shook his head to let it fall loose again, “Make sure Wooyoung doesn’t get into trouble. Take care of yourself, work hard but not too hard. I love you sweetie.” 

“I love you too, Mom.” Yeosang could feel how close he was to crying so he jumped forward and hugged the living daylights out of her. He was going to miss her, miss her reasurring smiles, her comforting words, her home-cooked meals. “I’ve got to go, Wooyoung and Dad are waiting,” he added softly. Waving goodbye with a tight smile, he walked out the front door. He was going to miss this house.

————————————————————

Yeosang was bored. The car ride from Busan to Seoul seemed endless, especially now that despite leaving early they’d hit unterminable traffic. Even Wooyoung was quiet as he leaned his head against Yeosang’s shoulder and played games on his phone. Yeosang’s thoughts drifted, thinking about the last time his life had changed so drastically. 

_ “I’m Jung Wooyoung. I’m five years old but I’m going to be six on November 26th.” The little chubby cheeked boy stuck out his hand proudly. Yeosang was confused, and continued standing there awkwardly. The boy, Wooyoung, giggled. “You’re supposed to shake it silly.” He grabbed Yeosang’s hand and moved it up and down exaggeratedly. “There! Now we’re friends.” Yeosang had never had a friend before, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next. Thankfully, Wooyoung seemed to be an expert in the whole friend-making business. “Now you tell me your name, and then if you’d like, you can sit next to me in class. I heard the teacher is super duper nice and gives you candy if you answer the questions correctly.” _

_ “Oh, uh, I’m Yeosang. I’m six years old.”  _

_ “Oh you’re older.” Wooyoung pouted. ”Can I call you Yeosangie?” Yeosang was unsure as to  _ why _ he would want to call him that but nodded his consentment anyways. The boy grabbed his hand again and pulled him straight to the front of the class where he pointed to where Yeosang should sit. Yeosang sat. He watched in awe as Wooyoung pulled out item after item from his sparkly new backpack: a blue notebook, a red pencilcase filled with pens of all the colors of the rainbow, a ruler, a diary, and finally an apple. He looked at Yeosang expectedly. The older felt his cheeks grow hot and his eyes water. He looked at his ratty satchel he knew contained only a few pieces of paper and one black chewed-up pen he’d found under the couch this morning. _

_ “I, uh, I don’t, I,” Yeosang sniffled. He was embarassed, as well as afraid that his almost empty bag would make Wooyoung leave. He stared at his desk, his cheeks burning and his stomach hurting more than usual.  _

_ “That’s okay! I can share.” Wooyoung, seemingly unaffected by Yeosang’s empty bag, dug into his backpack and pulled out another blue notebook. “You can have this one if you want. It’s the same as mine so we can match, just like best friends! What’s your favorite color? I like purple but if you want that color too it’s okay I have more at home. Do you like blue?” He held up a brand new blue ballpoint pen. Yeosang nodded, afraid of saying anything and losing his friend. “Okay perfect! My mom and dad told me the teacher doesn’t like it when you write in colors other than blue and black which sucks. So you can write in blue and I’ll write in black and if you get bored we can switch colors okay?” He handed Yeosang the pen and notebook. _

_ “Okay.” Yeosang stared dumbly at his desk. “Thank you,” he whispered. _

_ “No problem ! That’s what best friends are supposed to do I think.” _

“Yeosangieeeee,” Wooyoung’s whining woke him from his flashback, “will you play Scrabble with me? All you have to do is download the app or we can play together on my phone and try to beat the computer, which by the way is  _ im-po-ssible _ . Like the thing  _ has _ to be rigged and there’s no way “kerfuffle” is an actual word.”

“We can play together if you’d like. And a kerfuffle is kinda like a fight.”

“Oh my god your obscure knowledge may finally be useful.” Yeosang rolled his eyes.

They managed to defeat the computer, thanks to Yeosang successfully placing all seven tiles twice by creating the words “maximise” and, to Wooyoung’s greatest delight, “blowjobs”. Their dad pulled into the dorm’s parking lot. They would be sharing a large studio dorm.  _ See Yeosang, nothing much is changing. You’ll still be annoyed by Wooyoung everyday. _ Yeosang attempted to reassure himself, and Wooyoung ever the clingy koala grabbed his elbow and dragged him towards the building. 

Their room was nice, the beds not too narrow. They would be sharing the showers and bathroom with two other students whose room was adjacent. The walls were bare, they had been repainted recently judging by the lack of stains. Wooyoung was acting like the place was a palace with all his ooh-ing and aah-ing. 

“I can’t wait to meet our neighbors!! Oh my god Yeosang we should put your EXO poster right here,” he pointed to the space between their beds, “and then the fairy lights can hang on the bookshelves and oh! oh! we can put half the photos here and then the other half there so it’s symmetric and maybe we could buy some cactus at IKEA and then put them on the windowsill so you feel at home? What do you think?” Yeosang was a bit overwhelmed, but Wooyoung’s excitement was so contagious, and a smile overtook his features effortlessly.

“That sounds wonderful Wooyoungie.” Wooyoung grinned back and added a couple items to the IKEA shopping list. Their dad arrived with the first cardboard box, and placed it down with an exaggerated groan. He wiped non-existent sweat off his forehead.

“Don’t you two want to help your aging father?” 

“RACE YOU SANGIE!” Wooyoung yelled like the four year old child he was and ran out of them room. Yeosang chased after him, laughing. The two were the same height but Yeosang’s legs were longer and he caught up fast. They both crashed against the car breathing hard and laughing at the same time. Wooyoung patted his pockets sheepishly. “You have the car keys right?” Yeosang rolled his eyes.

“I hate you.”

“Guess we have to wait for Dad then…”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah I got that thanks.” He grinned.

They got the car open and managed to get the boxes to their room without too much trouble. Wooyoung had something to say about every single detail of their building: the showers looked like hospital ones, the door to their room was less heavy than the one at the entrance, the windows had such a nicer view than he had thought, the bare walls burned his retinas, the beds looked uncomfortable so it was a good thing they’d bought the mattress toppers, the common kitchen seemed functional but he was willling to bet that someone would start a fire sometime this year. Yeosang just listened quietly, nodding and humming at the right moments. He was used to being the listener, he actually preferred it this way. Wooyoung’s ramblings took his mind off the anxiety crawling around his stomach. It had always been just like this, and over the years Wooyoung had learned to read between the silence and could decipher the subtilites in Yeosang’s facial expressions and moods. He knew when to press, when to leave the older alone, when to hug him, when to simply lay next to him. Wooyoung was more than his brother, he was his best friend, just like he’d so boldly affirmed all those years ago.

_ Yeosang closed the door behind him as he returned from his first day of kindgarten. He went to the living room to warn his mom that he had returned; it was a habit he’d taken though he knew that she probably did not really care about whether or not he was here. _

_ “I’m back from school.” _

_ “Okay,” she answered, staring blankly at the gesticulating people on the television. _

_ “We learned how to write our names.” _

_ “Wonderful.” _

_ “I have a best friend. He gave me a pen.” _

_ “Yes, yes.” _

_ Wooyoung went to his room, taking the notebook Wooyoung had gifted him out of his backpack and opening the first page. He had written ‘YEOSANG’ in big shaky characters, just like the teacher had shown. Underneath, smaller, Wooyoung had written his name.  _

_ “It’s so people know that you’re my friend. In case they find your notebook they can give it to me too. Here, you write your name here.” Yeosang had very carefully and with great focus written his name. Wooyoung looked delighted.  _

_ At lunchtime Wooyoung had stayed by his side as well, giving Yeosang half of his sandwich as the older did not have a mother that would pack him lunch in a Spider-man themed lunchbox. Wooyoung never stopped talking, only stopping to let Yeosang answer his one hundred questions. Yeosang told him his favorite animal, what his room looked like, who he lived with, his favorite kind of food, and if he’d ever been to the aquarium. His answers were short or monosyllabic, but Wooyoung seenmed content, showing no signs of getting bored of Yeosang’s quiet companionship.  _

_ Now, Yeosang traced his finger over the characters that made up his name and Wooyoung’s and grabbing his new pen practiced writing the two words over and over again. _

————————————————————

He was lost. To be fair, this was all Wooyoung’s fault. The idiot had rushed into the IKEA as fast as humanly possible, giving Yeosang no choice but to run after him and unable to scope out the store in order not to end up in the situation they were currently in. Then, to make matters worse, Wooyoung had insisted they split up and had given him half of the shopping list. Yeosang had dutifully found each item, walked towards the checkout, and called Wooyoung. His brother didn’t answer the first time, the second time, or the tenth time because  _ of fucking course _ . No way was Yeosang waiting for Wooyoung to make his way back to the checkout himself, because basing himself off past experiences the younger would wander the store until an employee came to chase him out because the store was closing. So, with a heaving sigh, Yeosang pushed his cart back into the perpetual corridors of cabinets, beds, and desks. He manoeuvred the cart with one hand as he used the other to send texts and call Wooyoung again and again. 

There was a sharp left turn ahead of him, but he was distracted with his phone and noticed it too late. He still attempted to manouver the cart in the turn but lost control of the heavy cart, crashing not-too-gently into a giant cabinet that was thankfully filled only with assorted pillows. He cursed loudly.

“Everything okay?” A voice asked behind him. Yeosang turned around, the answer to the simple question on his lips and choked. The person behind the voice was easily one of the most attractive people he’d ever seen. He was tall, a good ten centimeters taller than Yeosang. His blonde hair was parted unevenly, some strands falling gracefully onto the right side of his forehead highlighting his dark eyebrows. His features were defined; his jaw razor-sharp, his nose straight, his lips full. Yeosang looked up, staring into the stranger’s eyes. He was supposed to say something but what? “You good?” The stranger repeated their question. Yeosang remembered suddenly that he had crashed his cart.

“Yes, uhm, yes I’m okay. Thank, uh, thank you.” He smiled tightly, feeling dumb in the presence of the model.

“You look a bit dizzy. You sure?” The guy looked concerned, a small frown and worried pout appeared as on his face.

“Yes sorry, this stupid cart is way too heavy and I lost my brother.”

“What does he look like?”

“He’s my height, with light purple hair and, uh, I think he’s wearing a striped shirt. He has a tendency to wander.” The beautiful stranger turned his head, calling over his friend.

“Yo San, this guy lost his brother, have you seen a dude with purple hair and a striped shirt?”

“Oh yeah! I remember ‘cause he was carrying around a giant nightlight thing shaped like a panda. He was in the kitchen area, seemed really engrossed in the cutting boards.” Yeosang wanted to face palm. _Of_ _fucking course._

“Thanks man.” 

“Yeah, no problem!” San smiled.

“Good luck!” Beautiful stranger waved bye as he walked away with a bright smile and Yeosang swears his heart sped up. He shook his head and headed angrily towards the kitchen supplies. Wooyoung was still there, still staring at the cutting boards, carrying the giant fucking panda lamp. He turned at the sound of Yeosang approaching.

“Oh hey! Look at what I found!!” Wooyoung showed him the lamp.

“Is that all you got? What about your half of the list?” Wooyoung looked at him shamefully.

“I gave you the entire list. I wanted to look around.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Yeosang attempted a dramatic 180 with the shopping cart, which was difficult to the sheer weight of the thing, and walked away as quickly as he could. Wooyoung chased after him.

“Yeosangieeeeee I’m sorryyyyyyy. I swear I’ll do all the groceries okay?” Yeosang did the only thing that could show Wooyoung how annoyed he was: he ignored him. “Noooo not the silent treatment please. I’ll do the groceries for a month pleeeeaaseee.” Wooyoung whined louder, attracting attention to the pair.

“Okay fine just shut up.” Yeosang wasn’t really mad, even if Wooyoung had had the list he doubted the younger would have gotten anything other than the stupid nightlight. “I have to figure out how to get back to the checkout area.”

“You just have to follow the signs.” The signs as it turns out, had all mysteriously disappeared, and the two brothers wandered aimlessly in silence for what felt like hours.

“This is all your fault by the way,” Yeosang sighed as he pushed their overflowing shopping cart through the endless maze of fake rooms and cartons. Wooyoung followed him guiltily. “I don’t even know where we’re going to put half these things,” he added, raising his eyebrows at the lamp shaped like a panda Wooyoung was still clutching to his chest. He insisted it was “ _ the piece that’s gonna tie the whole room together _ ”. 

“Oh! Yeosangie look that sign says to turn left for the checkout area!” Yeosang turned, barely controlling their heavy cart. Two boxes threatened to fall out, Wooyoung had added them five minutes ago despite Yeosang’s protest.

“Seriously Wooyoung why do we need the alarm clocks? We have phones.”

“You can program your name into it Yeosangie.” Wooyoung said with the utmost serious expression on his face.

“That’s honestly creepy, I don’t want to be woken up by some machine that knows my name.”

“Party pooper.” But Wooyoung, probably aware that he’d annoyed Yeosang enough for a week in the space of two hours grabbed the two alarm clocks and placed them inconspicuously on a shelf occupied by various types of bowls and plates. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I really won’t.” The checkout tills finally appeared in their line of sight. “Oh thank god I thought we were going to have to sleep in one of the fake bedrooms.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen.”

“I’m sorry? I’m the drama queen here?”

“I’m not going to help you carry the stuff to the car.”

“Well looks like the panda lamp is going to have to stay here then.”

“You wouldn’t,” he gasped.

“Watch me.” The cashier coughed loudly, and Yeosang, embarassed, stopped bantering with Wooyoung to pay for their excessive amount of storage and decoration items. They stuffed what they could into the giant blue bags and took the rest in their arms. The trunk of their car wasn’t big enough so they filled up the backseats as well. Wooyoung picked up where they had left off in the store.

“I can’t believe you would just  _ abandon _ Mr. Dumpling after we promised him a home.

“Mr.  _ who _ ? Did you name the fucking panda?”

“Of course I named him, it would be mean not to.”

“Oh my god. That’s it. I’m moving out.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh !!! hope you enjoyed the first chapter >__<
> 
> please leave kudos if you enjoyed & any feedback in the comments (stay polite).
> 
> see you for chapter 2, where we get to meet the other roommates !!!!


	2. and they were roommates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING !!!! ABUSE. skip to the end of the italics if you'd rather not read it.
> 
> flashback-heavy chapter! i'm sorry if you don't like that sort of thing but i felt it was important to give background to yeosang and wooyoung's past. 
> 
> and we finally meet the roommates !! can you guess who they are?

Wooyoung had somehow fit all their purchases into their shared dorm, and it actually looked really cute. The EXO poster had been put up, right next to Wooyoung’s SHINEE one, and the wall the head of their beds were pushed against displayed a dozen of photographs of the two brothers. Rainbow fairy lights had been placed all around the room and the white walls were multicolor in some areas. Of course, between their two beds, on top of one of the nightstands, Wooyoung had carefully placed the nightlight he now called Mr. Dumpling. Even Yeosang had to admit it was growing on him. Their room suddenly felt so much more like  _ home _ . It was safer, warmer, and Wooyoung, whose energy and excitement had lulled, was quiet enough for Yeosang to get some well-deserved rest. He closed his eyes.

————————————————————

_ “This is Seungseok,” his mother announced, placing her hand on the man’s shoulder. He glared at Yeosang. “You are to show him respect. He is our guest.” The strange man continued to look down at Yeosang. He was not bothered, now accustomed to the men his mother would sometimes bring home. They were always harmless, charmed by her illusory gaiety and she was quick to grow bored of their company. _

_ “Okay,” Yeosang answered, He started to turn to go to his room but the man lunged forward suddenly, grabbing Yeosang forcefully by the arm. _

_ “You will address her as ‘mother’ when you talk to her, and you will address me as sir. Now, try again,” Yeosang trembled, his arm burned where the man grabbed him. _

_ “O-okay, mother,” he stuttered. He jerked his wrist out of the man’s grasp and ran to his room, hot tears already spilling down his cheeks. He finally looked down at his arm, nursing it close to his chest and crying harder as he saw that the skin where the man had held on was already becoming shades of red and purple. He lay down in his bed, breathing slowly to try and calm his rapid heartbeat.  _

_ The next day he wore a long sleeved shirt to class. _

————————————————————

_ The man did not leave. He was always there when Yeosang came home. He had also began to pick up on his mother’s habits, helping her ever so kindly to finish the bottles littering the living room. And his irritability began to rub off on his mother, who, despite never having laid a hand on him before, had slapped him hard across the cheek last week when he’d failed to add a please to the end of his sentence. Yeosang avoided his house as much as possible. Most weeks, he managed to escape the bruises and insults. He would always leave before his mother and her new friend were awake, tip-toing out the front door. When he returned at night he quietly went to his room, his quiet footfall hidden by the boisterous laughing of the television. _

_ However, Wooyoung had began to notice his change of wardrobe, commenting on the warm weather and Yeosang’s wrist-length sleeves. He asked how his mother was doing, what he had eaten last night for dinner, what time he had left his house this morning. Yeosang hated lying, but he was embarassed by the purple blossoms that occasionally flowered against his skin. He didn’t want Wooyoung to see his weakness, didn’t want him to be disgusted by, or worse, pity his tainted skin. He answered the inquistive boy with half-answers and acquiesent hums. Wooyoung always smiled and nodded, but his features betrayed his worry. He never pushed though, and Yeosang was grateful. _

_ It happened when summer was just around the corner. He hated summer, the two long months during which he was no longer able to see Wooyoung everyday. There were two weeks left of third grade, and Yeosang resented the end of classes as much as the average student resented the beginning. He had already had to endure two summers without his best friend, the sunny days usually spent in his room reading, or listening to music on the tiny portable radio Wooyoung had bought him a year ago for his birthday. His birthday was incidentally also coming up in two weeks. Wooyoung had joked about it being a celebration of the end of school, but it was really a chance for the two friends to spend an entire day together before their inevitable separation. Wooyoung and his family always went to the sea for summer, leaving Yeosang behind. He shouldn’t feel so abandoned every year, yet without fail he would grow quieter and quieter as the days went by, not even Wooyoung’s extra attention enough to cheer him up. That day, Wooyoung hadn’t stopped talking about his house on the seaside. _

_ “Mom said that some guys came to the house and they repainted my entire room and changed my bed for a bigger one! I can’t wait to see what it all looks like. She won’t tell me the color but I’d bet it’s purple because she knows that’s my favorite color. What do you think Yeosangie? Could it be purple?” Yeosangie just nodded, staring holes into the wooden table as he ate the sandwich Wooyoung had brought him. A week into their kindergarten year Wooyoung’s lunchbox magically began to contain two portions of lunch. “Oh ! Maybe it’s blue! That’d be so cool, I’ll have to take pictures so I can show you. Do you want me to send you a postcard maybe?” Yeosang nodded again, still focusing his attention on the wooden planks of the lunch table. “Okay I’ll send you a postcard then! Pinky promise!” Wooyoung extended his pinky finger, waiting for Yeosang to wrap his own around his. Suddenly, the worn wood of the table was not good enough of a distraction, and before he could fight them off the tears began to fall. Wooyoung was about to say something but Yeosang just grabbed his bag and ran as fast as he could to the school exit and running out the gate, ignoring the teacher yelling at him to come back immediately. He ran all the way home, pushing past the burn in his chest and lungs until he crashed against the front door of his home. He let himself in, the noise of the door slamming loudly against the wall bringing him suddenly back to his senses. It was too late however, Seungseok had already heard him enter. The man approached him, anger already distorting his features. _

_ “What are you doing here?” He spat at Yeosang. _

_ “School ended early. Where’s my mom?” _

_ “Bullshit. Are you skipping out on school?” _

_ “N-no. School ended early. Where’s my mom?” Yeosang stayed adamant, but he knew his wavering voice had given him away.  _

_ “How dare you fucking lie to me.” The man grabbed Yeosang by the wrist and threw him against the wall. He heard the crack before he felt the sharp, electric pain in his wrist. Yeosang screamed. The man grabbed Yeosang by the shoulder brutally, and covered his mouth with his sweaty hand. “Shut the fuck up!” Yeosang felt himself slip as his primal instincts took over. He bit down on the man’s hand until he tasted blood. Seungseok jumped back with a cry. Yeosang’s legs picked him up and brought him to the front door where his uninjured hand opened the front door and then he was running. He knew where he was going, yet he couldn’t put a finger on it. His ribs ached, his wrist burned, and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. His legs slowed down as he approached the front door of a house his brain recognized. One word rised to his lips: “Wooyoung.” He began knocking against the door frantically screaming that one word over and over again. The tears had started again and he cradled his wrist close to his chest while the other slammed against the door again, and again, and again. Nobody answered. Yeosang continued to sob as he lay down on the door stoop and promptly passed out.  _

_ Yeosang and the blue chicken had been discussing the rainy weather when all of a sudden it had began to scream his name in a familiar voice: “YEOSANG! YEOSANG WAKE UP! YEOSANG PLEASE!” Yeosang painfully opened his heavy eyelids. A strange shape was talking to him, and another shape was lifting him off the ground. He tried to decipher the words but he could only concentrate on the horrible throbbing emanating from his wrist. His throat was dry, his eyes felt cakey, he felt like he was dying. The taller shape had put him back down on something soft. He felt something touch his lips, then the something poured down his throat. It felt nice and he hummed to let the shapes know this was good. His ears slowly stopped ringing and he began to hear some of the words the shapes were pronouncing. _

_ “Jeonsoo we have to bring him to the hospital.” _

_ “Dad is he going to die? He can’t die you have to save him please please.” _

_ “Wooyoungie he’s not going to die I promise. Can you go get more water please?” The smaller shape disappeared. The other shapes began to speak in a quiet voice, Yeosang concentrated harder. _

_ “How did this happen? Do you think it was an accident?”  _

_ “Wooyoung has been telling me that Yeosang has been acting strange lately, but it’s recent, it can’t be his mother.”  _

_ “We can’t let him go back.”  _

_ The little shape came back, and the tall shapes stopped their whispers. Something cool touched his face, he hummed again. He felt so hot, like he was burning. He needed to tell the shapes, they could help. _

_ “Ooo.” Yeosang frowned, his voice wasn’t working properly. He concentrated harder. “Hhoot.” That was better. The little shape came closer. _

_ “Mom!! Mom, Yeosangie, he tried to say something!” Now all three shapes were close. He tried to open his eyes wider, tried to see the shapes better. The light hurt his eyes and he groaned. _

_ “Hey sweetie, you’re okay I promise. What did you say?” _

_ “Hhoott.” _

_ “Hot! He said hot mom. What does that mean?” _

_ “It means we need to take him to the hospital. Wooyoung go get one of your shirts. Short sleeves. And a blanket in case. Me and your father are going to put Yeosang in the car okay?” The little shape’s head moved up and down. Yeosang mouthed the familiar word.  _

_ “Wwooooyouung.” The tall shape lifted him up again. _

_ “Yes honey don’t worry Wooyoung will be right back. We’re going to bring you to the hospital okay?” _

_ “Oookaayy.” Saying all those words had required so much work, and Yeosang could feel his eyes closing again. He let the warmth of the shape guide him into the comforting darkness. _

_ The first thing that Yeosang noticed when he opened his eyes was the ache in his chest. His eyes flickered as he tried to grow accustomed to the lights. The second thing he noticed was all the sounds, mainly a constant beeping to his right. There were people talking which was odd because no-one ever came into his room. He tried to sit up but fell back into the pillows with a groan as the dull pain in his chest flared up. He focused on trying to understand where he was. The room was small, with a small window to his left. There were a bunch of tubes leading to machines and a weird bag filled with a clear liquid to his right. In front of him, standing about a meter from the foot of his bed were Wooyoung’s parents. No, that couldn’t be right, why would they be here? He turned his head a little and saw Wooyoung fast asleep in a chair in the left back corner of the room. Wooyoung. He turned all his attention to the sleeping boy. Wooyoung needed to wake up, Yeosang was okay, Wooyoung needed to know. He tried to scream the name but all that escaped his throat was a raspy sound. It was enough however for Wooyoung’s mom to rush by his side.  _

_ “Oh Yeosang,” she took his face in between her hands. He wasn’t sure why she sounded so sad. He tried again. _

_ “Wooo.” Yeosang felt the tears fill his eyes, why couldn’t his stupid voice work. “Wooo,” he tried again, louder. Wooyoung’s mother turned around. _

_ “Jeonsoo wake Wooyoung up.” Yeosang sighed out of relief, the tears stopped threatening to spill. He heard Wooyoung’s father whisper something to Wooyoung, and then he saw his friend approach him quietly. Yeosang tried to lift his hand, to reach towards him but his wrist was heavy. “Ah ah no moving sweetie. Doctor’s orders.” _

_ “Yes Yeosang the doctor said you’re not allowed to move too much because you broke your wrist and factured your ribs.”  _

_ “Fractured.” Wooyoung’s father corrected him quietly. Wooyoung didn’t seem to notice, his gaze focused entirely on Yeosang. _

_ “Mom?” Wooyoung asked, his voice trembling.  _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “Do you think I could hug him? I promise I’ll be careful.” _

_ “Yes but be very gentle. Our brave Yeosangie here is still recovering.” Wooyoung gently put his arms around Yeosang’s shoulders and squeezed him ever so softly. Yeosang sighed happily. He felt his eyes closing all by themselves again.  _

_ “Okay Wooyoungie we’re going to let Yeosang sleep again okay? He needs to rest so he can get better.” _

_ “But he already slept sooooooo much.” _

_ “Shhh no arguing.”  _

_ “Okay…” Wooyoung’s quiet whining was slowly drowned out, as though he was entering a tunnel.  _

————————————————————

Yeosang woke up as his dream went to black. He was not startled, or frightened. He was used to dreaming about this moment in his life, his brain seemed very determined to never let him forget one of the most painful days of his life. He remembers the days at the hospital. At least one of Wooyoung’s parents were always in the room with him. He had stayed in that sterile, white room an entire week; dehydration and malnourishment slowing down his recovery process. One day, a woman dressed in a matching vest and pencil skirt had asked him questions about his mother. He had been scared to tell her about his home, about the man who had thrown him around like a ragdoll, about the lack of security and warmth his own home provided him but Wooyoung’s mother gently coaxed the answers out of him. He remembers the lady’s giant eyes swimming with the pity he so despised growing stronger in her eyes. After that lady’s visit, another woman had begun to visit more often. Yeosang liked her better; she was always gentle and kind. She often brought him cupcakes from the hospital bakery and her questioning was less annoying and standardized than the other lady. She asked about his hobbies, his grades at school, where he wanted to travel across the world. Later, Yeosang learned that the first woman was a social worker sent by the government whereas the second woman was the Jung’s family lawyer helping Wooyoung’s parents to fight for Yeosang’s custody; he, apparently, had no living relatives.

Yeosang was not allowed to live with the Jung’s immediately. The government who had seemed so concerned now ripped him away from his hometown and sent him to a tiny town fourty minutes away from Busan. He stayed at a foster home, he doesn’t remember much about those weeks, only that every single weekend Wooyoung’s parents would make the trip by car with their son to see Yeosang. He would sit through the tiny local school’s classes patiently only thinking about Saturday. He was not allowed to know about how his custody case was going, and what little Wooyoung knew it was clear he would not tell. Week after week Yeosang would wait for the Jungs to announce that he could go home with them and week after week he would lay crying in his lumpy bed. 

It had been a Wednesday. Yeosang had been away from his hometown and best friend for a total of seven weeks. He had had a math test that day that he failed utterly and completely. He didn’t really care anymore, but he remembers sulking on his walk home from school. He was so distracted by his growing grudge against the math teacher that he hadn’t noticed the Jung’s car in the driveway. He had opened the front door and hadn’t even had the time to take more than a step inside before he had been body slammed by Wooyoung. Wooyoung didn’t let go, he kept hugging him on the floor and he distinctly recalls his brother’s hysterical laughter. 

————————————————————

_ “We did it !! We did it Yeosang !! Well I didn’t do much but mom and dad and the lawyer they made you my brother and now you’re allowed to come home with us and you can live with us and you can come back to school and-” _

_ “Wooyoungie buddy, calm down.” Wooyoung’s father chuckled at his son’s excitement and helped him and Yeosang from off the floor. “So what do you think Yeosang huh? Wanna go home?” Yeosang wanted to say yes, and to say thank you but instead he started to cry. He had never cried so hard, had never spilled so many tears. Yeosang’s parents knelt on the floor and took him into their arms which for some reason only made him cry harder. At some point Wooyoung began crying too. _

_ “Do you not want to come home with us Yeosangie?” he sniffled, “I thought you would be happy.”  _

_ “Don’t be silly,” his new mother took Wooyoung into her arms as well, “Yeosang is crying happy tears.” _

_ “Oh, w-well me too… I’m crying happy tears.”  _

_ Everyone laughed. _

————————————————————

A loud knock resonated throughout their small room. Wooyoung jumped up immediately, seemingly restored from having to carry their IKEA haul up the stairs and ran to the door. Yeosang sat up on his bed warily and checked his phone. It was already eight o’clock, no wonder his stomach was ferociously growling. Wooyoung was talking animatedly with whoever was on the other side of the door, and suddenly two guys walked in.

“Yeosang! These are the people next door, the ones were sharing our showers with. This is Yunho.” Wooyoung pointed to the tall brunet. He was beautiful, his features delicate and soft. His brown hair fell gently into his eyes. He exuded kindness. Yunho waved and smiled shyly.

“Hey, Jeong Yunho. Freshman as well.” 

“And that’s San!” Wooyoung pointed to the other boy. Yeosang tilted his head, confused.

“Weren’t you at the IKEA?” Yeosang cursed his stupid brain for wondering where the tall, beautiful stranger that had accompanied San was. The guy had been at least three or four years older, no way he still went to college.

“Oh yeah sorry, I told Wooyoung about it! Isn’t that crazy though? Of all the people in Seoul I ran into my future roommates! I see you decided to keep the panda lamp.” San looked over Yeosang’s shoulder at the light. 

“Yeosang was going to leave him in the store.”

“No I wasn’t oh my God will you drop it.” Yeosang dramatically pushed his hair back off his forehead. 

“I’m glad you decided to keep it! ” San smiled widely at Wooyoung. Wooyoung turned a bright shade of pink. Interesting. Yeosang was going to have to bring that up later. 

“Anyways, I’m Kang Yeosang. It’s nice to meet you!” Yeosang was a bit nervous around the two freshmen, hoping their first impression of him wouldn’t be ruined by his tendency to let Wooyoung do the talking. Indeed, Wooyoung immediately launched into an intense question session, asking about every single detail of their lives. The two boys stood strong against the rapid fire. Yeosang had a good feeling about them. San was the opposite of his roommate. He was small, and his features were all striking; pointed nose, sharp jaw, hair parted in the middle. He looked like he belonged in some fairy tale story; he reminded Yeosang of the elves in Lord of the Rings, only shorter.

“Hey guys, do you mind if I invite my friend over? He lives in one of the studio dorms on the top floor alone, and I think he’d like the company. He’s a year older but I promise he’s really sweet.” Wooyoung looked over at Yeosang, who nodded with a small smile.

“Of course! Like that I can ask him about all the secrets on the campus.”

“I think you’ve had your dose of interrogation today Wooyoung.” Yeosang chided playfully. 

“It’s okay, we don’t mind!” It seemed as though San was an unstoppable happy virus, his dimples always on display. Wooyoung seemed delighted by that answer. He continued with his questions.

“Have you guys thought of joining any clubs?”

“Yeah, I’m going to the acapella auditions on Wednesday. I don’t think I’ll get in, but I have to try !” 

“Wait seriously? I’m trying out too! We should go together! Do you have any idea where it is?”

“Noooo, their Facebook page makes no sense. I think it’s in the main building but I have no idea what room.”

“Yeah I checked it out and-” Yeosang zoned out of San and Wooyoung’s conversation. He turned towards Yunho, who had also been left out of the two’s energetic dialogue.

“Are you joining anything?”   
  


“Yeah actually, I heard the dance groups is holding auditions at the same time as the acapella group on Wednesday. I’m thinking of going.”

“There’s a dance group?”

“Yeah, they have some stupid name like Keep Calm and Dance or something. Why? You dance?” Yeosang nodded shyly. He had taken lessons for the past three years at the local dance studio in Busan.

“It’s been about three years. I’m not that good but I really like it.”

“That’s awesome! You wanna go together on Wednesday. It can’t hurt to try.” 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll come!” Yeosang wasn’t sure what had just happened. He wasn’t one for impulse decisions, but the thought of being able to pursue dance on the side had been too good to pass on. He felt so safe in the practice rooms with the volume turned up way too loud, his body following along with the rythm of the music. He couldn’t wait for Wednesday if he was being honest.

“Cool! We can meet up before and go together so we don’t get too lost. Hey, do you wanna order pizza? Looks like San and your friend are gonna be talking for awhile.” Yunho 

“Brother.” Yeosang mumbled, correcting Yunho.

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung’s my brother actually.” He rephrased a bit louder. “But yes, pizza sounds good!”

“Whoa really? Sorry, you guys don’t look much alike!”

“That’s okay.” Yeosang smiled softly to show Yunho it really  _ was _ okay. 

“So, two large pepperonis and two cheese?” 

“Perfect.” Yeosang grabbed his D.S. while he waited for Yunho to pass the order. He tuned back into San and Wooyoung’s conversation. They were still discussing music and both sounded so genuinely happy. He was also, surprisingly, happy. There had been so much movement, so much change, so much chaos today Yeosang was sure that by the end of the day all he’d want to do was lay in his bed and fall asleep to sad songs but he found that he was excited to share dinner with his two new roommates. He felt warm, and content. It was so odd to find no remnants of the previous stress in his mind, only giddy anticipation. 

“WHOA YEOSANG ARE YOU PLAYING POKEMON??” San suddenly lept out of his spot on the ground and looked over Yeosang’s shoulder as he explored the Sinnoh Region. “What’s your best Pokemon? Wait no which one is your favorite? Which game is this? I only have the Sun and Moon. Have you-”

“Sannie!!” Yunho interrupted, “you need to breathe between questions if you want an answer.”

“Yes, I’m sorry Yeosang!” San looked at him expectantly.

“No that’s alright, Wooyoung does the same thing. You’d think you guys would run out of breath at some point. Anyways, this is Sun and Moon actually but I’ve only just started so-” The doorbell rang loudly. 

“Wow Pizza Hut really upped their delivery system,” Yunho commented.

“I’ll go,” Yeosang stood up, and put the D.S. down. “You can play if you’d like San.” San somehow, smiled even bigger. 

Yeosang tried to look through the door viewer but he could only spot the silhouette of a tall man. He grabbed the keys from the small table, and opened the door. His heart almost jumped out of his throat.

“You?” The beautiful stranger from IKEA asked, confused. Of fucking course.

  
  



	3. something he'd never done before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : SOCIAL ANXIETY/PANIC ATTACKS ARE MENTIONED, it's brief and not too in detail but be careful!

_ “You?” The beautiful stranger from IKEA asked, confused. Of fucking course. _

“Uhh, yeah?” Yeosang answered, nervous for no good apparent reason except that the guy was a literal model who was staring holes into Yeosang’s face as though he didn’t believe that he was actually there.

“You’re San’s roommate?” His tone betrayed his disbelief. He sounded incredulous, and Yeosang wasn’t sure why his presence was such a baffling circumstance.

“Yeah, funny coincidence huh?” Yeosang laughed awkwardly. Beautiful stranger just hummed softly, still scrutinizing Yeosang’s face. “Wanna come in?” Yeosang stepped away from the entrance, inviting him in and (finally) finding a way to break the eye contact. “I’m Yeosang by the way.” He said this to beautiful stranger’s forehead, too scared to look back into his eyes and find him still verifying his existence.

“Yeo-sang.” Beautiful stranger tested the name on his tongue, his deep voice echoing in Yeosang’s ears. “Seonghwa.” He stuck out his hand and Yeosang shook it, trying to ignore the electric feeling in his skin. He noted the considerable amount of rings that adorned his knuckles, most of them shining with the telltale sparkle of expensive crystals. His handshake was firm, imposing. He let go of Yeosang’s hand, the edge of his jewelry scraping slightly against Yeosang’s palm. 

“Uh, everyone’s in the living room so…” Yeosang led the way to where their group was sitting, everyone looking over San’s shoulder.

“USE YOUR SPECIAL ATTACK DUMBASS,” Yunho, that Yeosang had pegged as the calm one, yelled directly into poor San’s ear.

“I’M DOING MY BEST SHUT UP!”

“I think you’re doing great San!” Wooyoung added happily. Yeosang gagged at his brother’s obvious attempt at flirting.

“Thank you Wooyoungie!” Yeosang couldn’t believe that stupid compliment had actually worked.

“What are you guys playing?” Seonghwa’s voice startled Yeosang, who had somehow already forgotten he was there. The three others looked up, finally noticing the newcomer.

“Seonghwa-hyung!!!” San smiled, somehow, even brighter than before. “We’re playing Pokemon. I’m trying to capture a wild Pigeotto.”

“Which you would have captured if you had used your fucking special attack,” Yunho growled, snatching the D.S. from San and standing up.   
  


“HEEYY GIVE IT BAAACK.” San made a grab for the video game but Yunho just extended his arm, smiling evilly as the much shorter San attempted to jump up and catch it. Wooyoung watched, fiddling nervously with his hands; a telltale sign he was about to say something out of his comfort zone.

“Uh San? I’ve got a D.S. too if you’d like to play ? I don’t have Pokemon but I’ve got Mario?” 

“Oh my god really? I haven’t played Mario in  _ ages _ . Do you have the original one?” Wooyoung dug through his suitcase and brandished his console with the small Mario Bros. game.

“Of course I do,” he gasped, pretending to be offended. 

“We can take turns if you want!” San jumped onto Wooyoung’s bed loading up the Nintendo. The tips of Wooyoung’s ears turned red as he squeezed onto the one-person bed with San.

“Sounds good to me. Do you want to go first?” Yeosang just sighed softly, shaking his head. It had been a whole hour and the two were already obviously into eacother. Leave it to his brother to find his soulmate on his first day at university. To his left, he heard Seonghwa laugh softly. 

“I’ve never seen San willingly share anything before.”

“Yeah? Last time I tried to play on Wooyoung’s D.S. he threatened to shave my eyebrows off.” Seonghwa laughed the same quiet chuckle as before. Yeosang decided he liked it. 

“You’ve known Wooyoung for a while then?”

“Well he’s my brother so…”

“Oh really? You guys look nothing alike.” Yeosang hated telling people he had been adopted; absolutely loathed the pity that exuded from people’s eyes when he revelead it. Pity was dumb. Yeosang was happy, he didn’t suffer because he was no longer with his real family, quite the contrary. He had been saved, protected from a futureless life of pain. He was  _ lucky. _ People didn’t pity the winners of the lottery, didn’t smile sadly when someone told them they had been promoted at work. He had nothing to do with pity, except maybe stuff it down until his stomach and heart were heavy with the useless emotion.

“He’s my adoptive brother.” 

“Oh, well that explains it.” Seonghwa seemed absolutely unfazed. “So, you don’t happen to have a third D.S. since that seems to be tonight’s group activity?” Yeosang was a bit startled at how quick the older had moved on. 

“Uh, no, sorry. Just those two.” 

“Ah,” Seonghwa turned his head so he was looking straight into Yeosang’s eyes, “I guess we’re going to have to get to know eachother then.” 

“Yep, looks like.” Yeosang tried to ignore the excitement in his jumping heart. “Do you want a beer or something? Yunho said he put some in the fridge.” 

“I don’t drink, but a glass of water would be nice.”

“Okay uh, well the kitchen is that way,” Yeosang pointed awkwardly with his hand to the white door towards the back. “We have to share with Yunho and San.”

“Yeah, I remember. I was with my friend but the people we were sharing with were aboslute pigs. Stupid univeristy policy forcing us to live in shared dorms first year.”

“You’re a sophomore then? Do you still live on campus?”

“Yep, second year. Not as fun as the first… I live in this building actually, but I ditched my roommate. I live alone on the top floor.” 

“Oh, nice.” Yeosang had run out of questions, and he felt like such an idiot killing the conversation this early. He was so bad at making small talk, or any kind of talk, with new people; scared he would bore them, ask the wrong questions, make them uncomfortable… He wracked his brain to find something appropriate to talk about with the sophomore. “So, uh, kitchen?” Seonghwa nodded.

“Lead the way, Yeosang.” Again, hearing his name on Seonghwa’s lips had the strangest effect. “So, you just got here today then?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. My dad drove me and my brother up from Busan. Then we went to IKEA, and well now, uh, we’re here.”

“Haven’t explored the campus yet?” Yeosang grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water.

“Nope.” He handed Seonghwa the glass. “Here, sorry we don’t have filtered water.” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge for himself.

“No water, but beer? Seems like you’re right on track for the freshman lifestyle.” Yeosang cursed his stupid face as he felt his cheeks burn.

“We haven’t done groceries yet, and let me remind you this isn’t even my beer.”

“Ah, so you’re a thief?” His cheeks burned hotter.

“Yunho said I could take one!” Seonghwa laughed loudly, running his hand through his blonde hair. That was a powerful combination of events, and Yeosang was dazed for a moment as he watched Seonghwa exist. He had always had a fascination for beautiful people, loved to see them just  _ be _ . He had a feeling Seonghwa would be capturing his attention for a while.

“I was just teasing, but you are very easy to wind up.” 

“How dare you.” Yeosang was pretending to act offended, but there was a tinge in his heart. Wooyoung always used the expression “open book” when talking about Yeosang’s facial expressions and it always made him feel like an idiot. He hated that he couldn’t hide any of his inner turmoil from anyone. He also hated that he was so easy to tease, hated blushing when he was angry, embarassed, or even jealous. He turned his back on Seonghwa searching for a bottle opener but drawer after drawer turned up empty. They really needed to invest in some silverware.

“Are you looking for something? Or just sulking?”

“Bottle opener.” Yeosang muttered, poorly disguising his mild irritation. If he had attempted to dwelve deeper into his inner pysche he may have concluded that he was annoyed because the intimidating, handsome sophomore standing in his kitchen had already figured out exactly which buttons to press to tease Yeosang. He heard the telltale ‘pop’ of a beer bottle being opened behind him and refused to come to the obvious conclusion he should have when he saw Seonghwa standing, the bottle in one hand, the cap in the other. 

“So you’re the fucking Hulk great. Anything else I should know?”

“Hey I’m sorry if I said something wrong.” Seonghwa’s voice was serious, full of sincerity. Yeosang looked up. Big mistake. There it was again, his impenetrable eyes. Yeosang wondered what was hidden behind the blackness of Seonghwa’s unwavering gaze.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yeosang rubbed circles at his temple, he was so tired and even more sensitive than usual. “I don’t even know why I said that, its kind of awesome that you can open a beer bottle with your bare hands.”

“If you’re sure…” Seonghwa seemed like he wanted to say something but he didn’t. 

“I promise. I’m just really tired.” It was half a truth but hopefully that was enough for Seonghwa to drop it.

“Already tired? It’s been barely a day!” Yeosang let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, grateful that the sophomore had let it be.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t tired after moving into your new apartment.”

“Fair enough.” Seonghwa paused, then added: “You know I never had a D.S. but I’ve got a Wii in my apartment I’m pretty sure still functtions…”

“I haven’t played on a Wii since I was like eight years old.”

“Just say I’m old and move on, wow.” Yeosang was surprised to hear a giggle escape his mouth. 

Maybe a new home, a new school, and new people wouldn’t be  _ that  _ bad.

————————————————————

Yeosang was starting to find his way around campus. Well, he was starting to get better at using Google Maps. Being an Arts and Science student meant he had classes all over campus, and sometimes one right after the other. On Tuesdays he had a Health and Environment lecture on the far West end of campus followed immediately by a Pyschology lecture ten minute’s away by foot. Yeosang had nearly run over an innocent pedestrian with his skateboard as he desperately tried to make it on time — he didn’t but the prof didn’t seem to mind. 

Yeosang had also met a couple of new people from his course, though he never initiated the introductions himself. The classes were interesting, the campus was lively, but Yeosang still couldn’t get past the swirling feeling in his guts when he thought of walking up to someone and initiating a conversation. He felt like a teenager, leaning against the wall reloading his Twitter and Instagram page over and over without actually looking at what was on the screen. He hated it, hated the feeling—  _ social anxiety _ . He remembers going to the doctor when he was twelve after his first day of sixth grade; the school had put him and San in different classes and he had spent the entire eight hours alone and feeling like he couldn’t breathe, like he was going to throw up, like his legs were growing thinner and weaker every second. The doctor had listened as Yeosang explained his sudden ailness, explaining he’d never felt that way before and he felt better now even if his hands were still a little shaky. Yeosang had been expecting cherry-flavored syrup, or at the very worse, a shot, but he got a lifelong diagnosis, a handicap.

He had gotten better since middle school, he used to have panic attacks everyday even after his parents had bullied administration into switching him over into San’s class. He’d seen a therapist for five years, and still had a bottle of pills in his top drawer in case things got too bad again. Slowly, he had been able to open up to different people, to engage in conversation and now, even banter, with strangers. He hadn’t really noticed how far he’d come until he thought back to middle school where sometimes even sitting in a classroom with people other than San had been enough to trigger strong panic attacks. He was proud of himself, but he couldn’t help the nagging voice in his brain that reminded him how pathetic he was, not even able to go up to someone and say  _ ‘Hi, I’m Yeosang!’ _ . 

“Hi, I’m Mingi!” Yeosang looked up, startled. A student —his age probably though with his large height he couldn’t be sure— was standing in front of him. He had red hair, though it was faded and leaning more towards a dark pink now. His eyes were long, his nose was long, his smile was long. He was long.

“Oh, uh, hi! I’m Yeosang!”

“You doing Arts and Science too?”

“Yup. Health and Environement and Societies for now, though I’m not sure what I’m going to specialize in.”

“Hey! I’m doing the same thing! Are you staying on campus?”

“Yep, towards the East.” Mingi jutted his front lip forward. He was cute, in an endearing giant kind of way.

“Lucky,” he pouted, “my boyfriend is towards there as well, but I’m stuck towards the North.” Yeosang didn’t know what to answer, kind of startled that this relative stranger had come out to him even though Korea was not known for its LGBTQ+ tolerance.

“I’m sorry.” Yeosang did sound pained, partly because he was sorry but mostly because his apology sounded kind of ridiculous.

“Oh don’t be,” Mingi sighed, “distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that. I’m eating dinner with him at his dorm tonight anyways, gonna meet his friends and stuff.” He winced. “Sorry you probably don’t really care… What about you? Know anybody else here?” 

“I’m living with my brother, and my flatmates are nice, but I haven’t really gotten super close to anyone on this course yet though I got a couple of names. Yeonjun? And Mark?”

“Oh yeah! I know Mark, the Canadian one right?” Yeosang hummed his assent. “I mean it’s been a week and a half, you’re doing pretty good already.” For some reason, those words resonated in Yeosang’s ears. He  _ was _ doing good, he had never actually had a need for any other friends than San. He had expected to feel lonely, spending his days apart from his brother, and here he was holding up conversations with people all on his own.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Then, Yeosang did something he’d never done before. “Hey, uh, me and my roommates are having a little party tonight, you and your boyfriend can come too?” Mingi’s eyes turned into half-moon crescents as his smile widened.

“Awesome! Can I have your phone number so you can text me the address?” Yeosang did another thing he’d never done before. 

“Yeah sure!”

He was doing very good.

————————————————————

The house party wasn’t much of a party, more of a small get-together. They had decided to have it in Yeosang and Wooyoung’s small dorm since Yunho and San’s dorm was somehow, already, a complete mess. Together, they had pushed their beds against the walls and opened the kitchen door to create the illusion of space. Wooyoung and San were sat on the floor, talking about music, and singing. Yeosang had managed to tune out their conversation, his ears only picking up the nervous giggling — he swears he could here them blush froma across the room. He was busy setting up their small table with junk food, unnecessarily fussing over the arrangement of the bowls of chips, cheese puffs, and gummy bears Wooyoung had insisted on buying. There were beers in the fridge, Yunho had promised to bring stronger alcohol in exchange for being allowed to bring his boyfriend. Yeosang had been a little surprised to find out his flatmate wasn’t straight, but apparently they’d been going out for a couple of months and were “ _ totally soulmates” _ — San’s words not his. San had also invited Seonghwa who had asked to invite his friend and his friend’s brother, and San, being a complete pushover, had said yes. Mingi had texted him half an hour ago asking for the address, bringing the grand total of people to a whopping nine.

At the mention of Seonghwa’s attendance, Yeosang’s heart had sped up. He hated the mixture of fear and excitement that built up in his stomach as the party’s start grew closer. He had dreamed of the blond sophomore more times than he cared to admit this past week. He had been so sure he’d never really see him again since he was San’s friend and a year older, but he was coming tonight. He was going to stand there, and be perfectly, frustratingly beautiful and kind and just  _ him _ . Yeosang was so not spending this night sober. He hoped Yunho and his supposed soulmate would get here soon so he could do a couple shots in anticipation of harboring his infatutuation for the night. 

Speaking of the devil, the doorbell rang and before Yeosang could move towards the door, Wooyoung had already sprinted to open it. Yeosang tilted his head to see who had arrived, Yunho walked through, his long trench coat making him seem even taller than he already was. He was followed by… Mingi? What was  _ he _ doing here? Yeosang heard his brain click inside his skull: Yunho was Mingi’s boyfriend. Why did the universe keep setting him up with these improbable coincidences?

“Hey Yeosang!” Mingi waved, “So turns out my boyfriend is your roommate and I was technically invited twice…” Only eight people then… Yunho wrapped his arm around his waist as Mingi laughed.

“Too bad there’s only one of you coming…” 

“Oh my god, imagine two Song Mingis, Yunho would spontaneously combust.” San added.

“Shut up, brat.” 

“He’s right, you totally would.” Mingi ruffled Yunho’s hair as his roommate held his hand against his heart, pretending to be hurt.

“Maybe if we do enough shots, Yunho will see double!” San announced proudly, then yelped and ran away as Yunho let go of Mingi and surged towards him. “NOOO I’M SORRY I TAKE IT BACK!” Yunho tackled San to the ground. 

“You’re lucky my boyfriend is in this room, I can’t murder you while he’s watching…”

“Wow, thanks sweetie! Glad to know you’ll wait to murder  _ after _ I leave.” Yunho’s voice dripped with playful sarcasm. Yeosang watched as Wooyoung returned from the kitchen, confused at the conversation. San turned towards him, crossing his arms and curling his lips into an angry pout.

“Wooyoung, Yunho keeps threatening to kill me.” Wooyoung gasped exaggeratedly as he lept dramatically in front of San, pretending to shield him from Yunho’s fictive assassination attempt.

“No murdering San in my house!” He declared, with gusto. This reminded Yeosang of a play put on by third-graders, boring yet painful to watch. San giggled, but quickly regained his composure as he threw himself at Wooyoung’s feet, grabbing on to the poor boy’s legs.

“YOU’VE SAVED ME! HOW CAN I EVER REPAY YOU?” Wooyoung just stammered, as San stood up and draped himself in his arms.

“Uh, you can, uh, just, uh, buy me a new DS?” San gasped as he pushed Wooyoung away.

“You’re supposed to say that I’m the prize!” He whined, breaking character. The two were now the only ones acting, Yunho and Mingi just watching amused from a distance. 

“Oh, uh, sorry, you, uh, you’re the prize?”

“Wow thank you Wooyoungie!” San gave him a hug, then turned around abruptly, exiting the scene as suddenly as he had begun it. Still oblivious to Wooyoung’s red ears and cheeks he grabbed Yunho’s bag right from the guy’s arms and declared: “Let’s do shots!” 

“Yeah!!” San zipped open the bag and pulled out a bottle of Malibu Rum and two bottles of vodka. He made a gagging sound, and turned accusedly towards his friend.

“Ew! Why’d you only buy vodka idiot? And who even drinks Malibu?”

“Because I like vodka, and for your information Mingi likes Malibu.” Mingi smiled softly at Yunho, who pressed a kiss against his lips.

“EWWWWW STOP MAKING OUT AND POUR US ALCOHOL.”

“WHAT ARE YOU? TEN? I JUST KISSED HIM.” There was no real anger in his voice, and San reinforcing Yunho’s statement about his immaturity stuck out his tongue. Yeosang eyed the Malibu, he hated strong alcohol, and the sweet coconut flavor of the drink called to him. He let Yunho pour shots in plastic cups — they were on a budget, no money for actual shot glasses — and waited until Mingi had mixed his drink before grabbing the Malibu and filling his cup halfway. He filled the rest up with Iced Tea. 

The doorbell rang.

Yeosang downed half his glass at once.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ! sorry the chapter is kind of short >_< 
> 
> i already have a lot of work even if uni just started ahhh
> 
> leave kudos if you enjoyed !!!


	4. house party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : SOCIAL ANXIETY/PANIC ATTACKS ARE MENTIONED, it's brief and not too in detail but be careful!

Yeosang knew that the doorbell had announced the arrival of the one and only Seonghwa, he just wasn’t sure why his body was reacting so strongly to the idea of seeing the guy again. Sure, he was attractive and that one time they had exchanged conversation he had seemed pretty nice, but Yeosang knew virtually nothing about him, and honestly he didn’t have time for a crush at the moment. Not that he really ever allowed himself to have time for a crush. Crushes were pointless, they led nowhere and only caused resentment. Yeosang was alarmingly self-aware of his own insecurities. He had never really found himself attractive, physically or personality-wise. He wasn’t ugly, just not special, or especially eye-catching. He had grown used to existing in Wooyoung’s metaphorical shadow, an existence tied with an unshakable feeling that anyone who ever hung out with the two of them was there for Wooyoung’s sunshine-y company, and not his own quiet, somewhat —he believed— unsettling presence. Friends had never come easy to him, and he hadn’t gotten attached to anyone in Busan. It wasn’t for lack of trying, he was just unsure as to what “trying” really meant. No-one had taught him friendship, love, trust in the beginning; and after his adoption, the overwhelming social anxiety had stifled his learning even more. The irrational fear people would turn on him the minute he looked away plagued his thoughts for years before he settled for the more bearable thought that people didn’t actually care enough to talk about him behind his back. Or at least for now they didn’t. Perhaps Seoul would be different. Perhaps the change was ‘A Good Thing’ as his parents and brother had been incessantly repeating since the two first applied to the university. Yeosang was searching for a new stability, one that didn’t involve relying on his brother’s presence to exist; he didn’t need the chaos of an unattainable infatuation on top of that.

San had gone to open the door, already a tad bit wobblier than he had been five minutes ago before the three shots of vodka he had taken in a row, Yunho’s cries of encouragement pushing him towards insobriety. Seems like him and Wooyoung were both phenomenal lightweights, soulmates indeed. San made his re-entrance with Seonghwa in tow — literally San was dragging him by the sleeve of his very revealing sheer black top — and behind them, two strangers appeared. Seonghwa smiled awkwardly, yet still charmingly as he stood in the middle of the room. Yeosang suddenly felt extremely overdressed, in the literal sense. Not only was the sophomore’s top practically see-through, his ripped black skinny jeans revealed parts of his thighs Yeosang had _not_ asked to see. Behind him, stood even more awkwardly, the two other guys introduced themselves as Hongjoong and Jongho. The two didn’t look as much alike as one would expect of brothers — not that Yeosang had anything to say about that — but they were both lean, beautiful, and possessed an air of royalty that seeped from their slicked hair and dazzling outfits. The taller, but younger one, Jongho, was wearing a fitted white turtleneck, ribbed at the neck, and a leather jacket which accentuated his large shoulders. The silver chain and smudged black eyeshadow at the corner of his eyes magnified his intimidating look. Hongjoong seemed a bit more approachable, wearing an oversized black and red patterned button down open over his white shirt which were both tucked into tight black pants. The three were breathtakingly handsome, and their arrival had swept the room into an awed silence. As Jongho approached San with a familiarity suggesting they were friends and Hongjoong started up a conversation with Seonghwa, slowly everyone else re-initiated their conversations as well. Yeosang, as per usual, just sat on his bed with his drink and avoided eye contact while still observing.

Jongho, despite everything his person radiated, seemed quite shy as San introduced him to Yunho, Mingi, and Wooyoung. Soon however, he was laughing with them as he joined in on their game of taking shots for reasons Yeosang hadn’t figured out yet. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed. Yeosang stayed seated on his bed, only getting up to refill the drink he had finished quicker than anticipated. He had introduced himself to Jongho quietly and turned down the rowdy guys’ offer to join in on their latest game. He wished he could have said yes, even if shots weren’t his thing it was definitely better than being alone in a corner of the dorm playing Angry Birds on his phone. He looked up from time to time, watching Wooyoung’s cheeks progressively become redder as he got drunker: typical. Mingi was fully seated in Yunho’s lap by now, occasionally stealing kisses from the blond’s lips. Yeosang looked away every time, feeling like he was intruding on a special moment, even from ten feet away. Seonghwa and Hongjoong stayed separate from the group. Seonghwa was still drinking water but Hongjoong had poured himself a mix of something and something, and if judging by the way the shorter sophomore was laughing every two seconds and waving his arms around himself wildly, the something-and-something must have been quite strong. Seonghwa smiled at everyone of Hongjoong’s remarks, and Yeosang got angry as the butterflies in his stomach turned to fire.

Why was he sitting on this fucking bed? Why wasn’t he sitting on the floor with his brother and friends? Why did he always do this, always distance himself from all the fun? He was doing good, so why not do even better? _Because they don’t really need you Yeosang_, his brain, ever the party pooper reminded him. It had a point, they seemed quite content amongst themselves, it was too late to join their game and he was so not joining in on the sophomore’s conversation _ever_. Yeosang clenched the fist that wasn’t holding his drink. He knew he needed to get a grip and be more social but another part of his body had already given up on the idea. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Just a little closer. As if by telekinesis, Wooyoung chose that moment to meet his gaze, and since Yeosang was the equivalent of a picture book in terms of reading comprehension his brother knew at once what was troubling him. He beckoned excitedly for him to join the group, and to his great surprise, Yeosang found that his legs had now moved off the mattress and he was stood next to Yunho. Maybe too much Malibu not enough mixer, he thought to himself sardonically. But he was proud of himself for coming towards the group of his own will, even with a bit of Wooyoung and the alcohol’s help.

“YEOSANG!” San yelled unnecessarily loudly, “WE’RE PLAYING A GAME AND YOU DRINK IF YOU’VE DONE THE THING THAT YUNHO SAYS. YUNHO WHAT IS IT CALLED?!! TELL HIM WHAT IT’S CALLED!!”

“Jesus fucking Christ San he’s standing a foot away from you, dial it back. We’re playing Never Have I Ever, wanna join?” Yeosang hesitated, the usual no on his lips, but he swallowed it back down and sat cross-legged, next to his roommate.

“Sure! What do I have to do?”

“You just say something you’ve never done, and if anyone’s done it, they have to drink!”

“Yunho’s soooooo good Sangieee it’s soooo not fair he keeps making us take shotsss and he hasn’t had anyyyyyything.” Wooyoung complained louder than necessary and Yeosang laughed at his inebriated state. Wooyoung’s tongue always got very loose when he was drunk, probably because he was already terrible at keeping secrets sober.

“You wanna go?” Yunho asked him, “you start with ‘never have I ever’ then add the thing you’ve never done.”

“Okay, uh, never have I ever,” Yeosang’s mind wandered trying to find something only he would have never done, he was now strongly feeling the floating sensation that accompanied him when he got drunk, he unwillingly thought of Seonghwa, thought of his face, his lips and- “kissed a girl!” He didn’t realize he yelled it until he saw Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s heads whip around to see who the voice belonged to. He hadn’t spoken to either one yet to be fair, they must have wondered who he was. Well not Seonghwa, Seonghwa knew who he was, Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa- okay his brain was officially getting out of control. Yeosang focused all his attention to what Yunho was saying.

“-because the only person I’ve ever kissed is Mingi.”

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever kissed too.” Mingi rested his head on Yunho’s shoulder with a happy sigh. San made a loud gagging sound again, domesticity really repulsed him for someone who giggled every single time Wooyoung called his name.

“Does anyone need to drink apart from me?” Jongho asked, ignoring San. Wooyoung stood up suddenly, holding his almost empty plastic cup in front of him as though ready to give a toast. Yeosang buried his face in his hands, already embarrassed at whatever truth his brother was going to tell.

“I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT!” He declared. “I HAVE NEVER KISSED A GIRL…” Wooyoung left a pause, seeking an effect that seemed more ridiculous than dramatic given his wobbling legs and red cheeks, “BECAUSE I’M FUCKING GAY!” Yeosang groaned loudly. San jumped up beside him.

“HEY I’M FUCKING GAY TOO.” Wooyoung turned with a lopsided grin.

“OH MY GOD NO WAY MAN!” Wooyoung hugged San who used his momentum to throw them both right into Mingi and Yunho. The four toppled on the ground with a yelp and Jongho, seemingly properly fucking wasted too, started laughing really hard. Yeosang felt the bubble of his own amusement rise to his lips and before he knew it, he was on the floor, his back rising and falling in time with his laughter.

“SAN I HATE YOU.” Yunho tried to push San, who had grabbed him in a giant bear hug, off him, but it seemed as though the skinny boy had a lot more strength than it looked.

“NO YOU DON’T YOU LOVE ME BECAUSE I’M YOUR BESTEST FRIEND EVER SAY IT SAY I’M YOUR BEST FRIEND.” Yunho groaned.

“Fine you’re my best friend. Idiot.” San, happy, let go of Yunho and hug-attacked Mingi.

“NOW MINGI YOU SAY I’M YOUR BEST FRIEND.” Yeosang sat up, still laughing to watch as drunken San held on for dear life as Mingi tried to shake him off with a grin.

“You’re my best friend?” The red-head conceded with a large grin. San seemed satisfied and moved on to his next victim, Wooyoung, who had managed to extricate himself early on from the mess and had come to sit next to him, his head on Yeosang’s shoulder. Yeosang watched amused as San grabbed Wooyoung from behind, resting his pointy chin on his brother’s shoulder.

“Am I your best friend Wooyoung?” San was no longer shouting, actually, he was more so whispering, and he sounded shyer than Yeosang had ever heard in the past three weeks at university. Yunho and Mingi were now fully making out on his carpet, Jongho had managed to integrate the sophomore’s conversation and Yeosang didn’t feel like being the only one intruding on their soon-to-be-confesssion about how digustingly in love with each-other they were. He stood up and went to the kitchen, planning on getting another glass. He felt his head spin: definitely drunker than anticipated, not that it bothered him. Drunk felt good. Drunk felt free.

Yeosang opened the fridge, his vision was a bit double so he leaned down closer towards the drinks that had been arranged in the door, trying to find a beer brand he liked. He settled on a bottle with a blue label that would probably taste like shit, but he doubted anything better was hidden in there He closed the fridge door with unnecessary violence and felt the “sorry” escape his lips before he could stop it. Yeosang giggled at his own stupidity.

“Did you just apologize to an inanimate object?” Yeosang almost dropped the bottle and a small yelp escaped his mouth before he could stop it. Seonghwa was standing in the back corner of the kitchen, like some weird creep. “Hey I’m not a creep!” Shit, he had said that last part out loud.

“Nope not a creep, definitely not a creep.” But Yeosang’s heavy tongue pronounced the word “der-funitly”. Stupid alcohol. He tried to take a swig of his beer and instead his lips were met with cold metal.

“You should probably open that first. Need help?” Seonghwa extended his hand.

“You gonna fucking Superman it again?” Seonghwa laughed brightly. Stupid fucking beautiful noise.

“Maybe. Unless you want to try to find a non-existent bottle opener.”

“Just take it,” Yeosang handed the bottle over with a sigh, resigned to be humiliated. To his great confusion, Seonghwa just placed it on the table. “Aren’tcha gonna open it?”

“Your current state tells me you may not need this beer just yet. I was thinking we should save it for later? I know I would hate it if someone threw up on my kitchen table.”

“M’ not gonna throw up.” Yeosang muttered unconvincingly. He wasn’t going to throw up now, that was for sure. As for tomorrow morning? Anything was possible… Yeosang suddenly felt that he was no longer equipped to stand up, stupid shaky world. Seonghwa looked fine, of course he had only drank water and his legs were so long they could probably resist a ground-shattering earthquake or like tsunami or- “Seonghwa?” His lips tested the name, he was amused to observe that the older had taken a couple steps in his direction. He noticed the light bouncing off the crystal of his ring-covered fingers. Pretty.

“Yes? What is it?” Seonghwa sounded worried. Why, Yeosang couldn’t say.

“Why are you so friggin’ tall?” Seonghwa visibly relaxed and allowed a small chuckle that was way hotter than it should be fill the room.

“Oh god I thought you were actually going to throw up on the kitchen table.” Yeosang frowned. But he had just said he wasn’t going to why didn’t he believe him.

“Why don’tcha believe me? I said I wouldn’t do it, you don’t believe me? Also you’re avoiding the question I know you’re some weird fuckin’ human wolf fuckin’ giraffe hybrid, your secret is safe with me, buddy.” Yeosang whispered the last part, trying to show Seonghwa he could keep secrets well.

“You swear a lot when you’re drunk, it’s kind of adorable. Also did you just call me buddy? I’m older than you and,” Seonghwa smiled, his voice changing to a whisper as he stepped a little closer to Yeosang, “I’m actually just human Yeosang.” Yeosang thought about telling Seonghwa how nice his name sounded when he said it, but even his far gone brain knew that was just a little bit too far. Had he actually just called Yeosang adorable, or was he having auditory hallucinations?

“I don’t believe you. Nopity nope nope you are so not human I have like ten gagillion reasons why in my brain.” Seonghwa feigned being hurt.

“You don’t? Even though I believed you when you said you wouldn’t throw up on the kitchen table?”

“Iss different!” Yeosang defended himself. “No one should be that tall iss, like, illegal.” Yeosang felt his body sway backwards all of a sudden and his feet tried to catch up but he slammed his back against the kitchen counter. “Fuck!” Seonghwa, for some reason, got even closer, too close. Yeosang’s back pressed into the angle of the counter.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa held onto Yeosang’s forearm and his other hand went to his shoulder. It was too much, too much at once. Yeosang felt trapped between the counter and Seonghwa, Seonghwa and the counter. The older’s hands weren’t moving, Yeosang knew he just wanted to stabilize him, but it felt like they were pushing him back, pushing him against the wall, burning him, killing him from the inside. His breath started to pick up at the same time as his heartbeat. Stupid fucking alcohol couldn’t even help his panic attacks, fuckin’ useless. Yeosang’s vision doubled more, he needed Seonghwa to back away to back off to-

“Let go please let go let go let GO.” To his horror, his voice sounded terrified; he was usually so good at hiding the fear. Seonghwa’s hands were gone in a flash and Yeosang gasped for air as he lept away from the kitchen corner. He knew he probably looked fucking crazy, his breath ragged, his entire face and body burning hotter and hotter.

“Yeosang, are you okay?” Seonghwa’s voice echoed in his ringing ears, the combination of alcohol and panic prevented him from registering everything he was saying. Words floating in and out of his brain, like he was trying to communicate underwater. “I’m so sorry, fuck, can I do anything to help?” The warning signs of his panic attack faded away quicker than usual, probably thanks to the dulling effect of the Malibu in his blood, and after a minute or two of silence, during which Seonghwa had not left, Yeosang looked up, still feeling like a wild animal at the zoo: unnerved by unwanted spectators.

“‘M sorry, ‘m really sorry. You should prolally go now, ‘m so sorry.” Seonghwa approached him carefully this time, giving him space but going around to the other side of the kitchen table where Yeosang now stood shakily.

“Yeosang, if it’s alright with you, I would just like to know what I did wrong, so I never do it again? I’m very sorry if I made you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I promise I was only trying to help you. You seemed so close to falling.”

“Iss nothing, I’m just overly fucking sensitive. Fucking stupid.” Yeosang knew he was going to cry soon if he kept talking to Seonghwa about this, it always happened after moments that caused him anxiety — release mechanism his therapist had called it — and that’s when he hadn’t pumped himself full of coconut flavored liquor. God could only imagine what mess would happen if he stayed here longer.

“There’s nothing wrong with being sensitive Yeosang.”

“Don’t worry about it, iss no big deal okay?” He knew his shaky voice and hands were saying the opposite.

“No offense Yeosang,” — he kept saying his name, kept saying his name with that stupid voice of his, over and over, why? — “but you are a terrible liar. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong though. Just know you can trust me okay? We don’t really know each-other yet but I’m always here.” _Yet_. That word, he had said it as though there was a future. As though they would see each-other again. Yeosang laughed derisorily at himself. As if. He finally looked up, only to see that Seonghwa seemed hurt. Yeosang internally facepalmed himself, the guy thought the laugh was meant for him. As if he would dare to mock God himself. He really had a talent for fucking things up.

“‘M sorry, not laughing at you, laughing at myself. Can’t lie for the life of me. Can’t even lie to myself. It sucks man.” Yeosang decided that he had said enough, said too much really. It wasn’t much like him to tell anyone anything and here he was, sharing insecurities with the one and only Beautiful Stranger, Park Seonghwa. He turned around, but was immediately stopped as a hand wrapped itself, loosely, but firmly, around his wrist. Yeosang turned back around, wincing already at what Seonghwa would say next. Probably something along the lines of ‘it’s not that serious man’, ‘who cares about that shit?’, or maybe even ‘is that seriously it?’. People always thought waving away the insecurities would be reassuring but it just made him feel small and pathetic.

“Terrible liars make the best people you know.” Seonghwa looked him straight in the eyes, his ringed fingers still wrapped loosely around Yeosang’s wrist.

And that’s when Yeosang knew he was absolutely, completely, and utterly fucked.

Yeosang tried to pull his wrist away, but Seonghwa had already let go. Yeosang realized he had nowhere to go. He had planned on storming off but where to? They were in his small dorm, and it’s not like Seonghwa was just going to stay in the kitchen for the rest of the party. So he just stood there, like an idiot. What was he supposed to answer? Thank you? That just sounded stupid compared to the fucking poetry that Seonghwa had just spouted. Seonghwa wasn’t moving either, just standing there, all five feet something of him, just _waiting_.

“Yeosang?” He really needed to stop saying his name like that. Yeosang raised his gaze from where it had been intently staring holes into his shoes. Seonghwa was still looking at him, worried almost.

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna meet Hongjoong?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Seonghwa led the way to where Hongjoong and his brother were still sitting. Yeosang followed him.

He probably would’ve followed him anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyooo !! make sure to leave kudos/comment if u enjoyed >___<
> 
> sorry for the sporadic updates but i promise i haven't given up on this fic .
> 
> uni is just extremely time consuming //sigh//
> 
> hope you enjoyed !
> 
> seongsang dynamic begins...
> 
> the slow burn begins too !!!!!
> 
> get ready for intermittent angst and fluff and frustrating scenes hehe...
> 
> woosan should go quicker though ;))
> 
> -m ^____^


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